#mowalsh thoughts

[santos-dreaming]

i am an emery walsh little spoon truther and you can pry this from my cold dead hands

after samira moves to night shift to in part get away from fuckass robby but also to align with emery. it allows both of them to curl up in bed in the morning, blackout blinds drawn and samira knows it’s coming

laughs quietly to herself when she feels emery, back already turned to her, just start to fucking wriggle backwards like some sort of confused worm, grumbling under her breath until samira slips an arm round her waist, pulls her flush against her body

and that is the cue to emery’s entire body to go lax, sinking boneless into the bed and 12+ hours of work seems to fall off her shoulders all at once

she’s asleep with in minutes and samira smiles against the hair, wiggles as best she can to avoid the inevitable pins and needles that will accompany the arm emery is using as a pillow and closes her eyes too

[santos-dreaming]

mowalsh but it’s samira stressed out of her mind because she doesn’t think she’s good enough for emergency medicine after her shift on the fourth

emery’s confused for a beat because of course she’s good enough and then samira keeps speaking, barely taking a breath, talking at emery rather than to her

and oh, emery realises, her amazingly intelligent, compassionate, capable girlfriend has been torn down by a man, by her boss, someone who’s supposed to teach her

so emery let’s samira get it all out, until her chest is heaving and a few tears are beginning to leak from her eyes. and then, in no uncertain terms, she lays out exactly why samira is more than fucking capable of working in emergency medicine if that’s what she wants. that any emergency department would be lucky to have her, and that she shouldn’t take any notice of what tiny angry men have to say about it

[santos-dreaming]

smth smth emery hearing how robby treated samira post panic attack and absolutely beating the shit out of him (whether literally or verbally i will let you decide)

and then she sweeps samira off her feet and they both go home and watch the fireworks in each others arms and make out

SEND TUMBLE

[santos-dreaming]

and if i say samira who doesn’t tell emery about her panic attack on the 4th of july, who is worried about being too much, but also feeling so stupid for not recognising what was happening to her that the idea of having to tell emery too is to much to handle right now

but also a small part of her that’s convinced it won’t happen again, now she knows what it feels like, irrationally thinking she’ll just be able to stop it from happening if gets to that point

anyway, something something, samira having another panic attack, this time in front of emery. and emery is so good with her as she calms her down, gentle hands and a soft voice that samira knows is reserved for her and her alone.

and even once she’s calmed down enough that she doesn’t actively think she’s dying, she’s still tensed, still waiting for the ridicule or the disbelief or the mocking laughter for being so stupid. for letting things get the better of her.

instead she gets emery pulling her close and hugging her tightly, a hand running through her hair, shushes her when she tries to apologise, a kiss against her temple and not an ounce of irritation to be found

[santos-dreaming]

i’ve been consuming an unholy number of mowalsh fics recently. and let me tell you, my mind is whirring with possibilities for hurt/comfort now